


Freesia

by HapaxLegomenon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Language of Flowers, Team Bonding, Zine, hqflowerzine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 14:11:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10538127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HapaxLegomenon/pseuds/HapaxLegomenon
Summary: Let’s set the scene: nine teenagers, three gardens, two pallets of flowers, and one box of tools.  A cloudless spring day, with a cool breeze and warm sun, outside of a retirement home in suburban Tokyo, and --What could possibly go wrong?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Haikyuu!! Flower zine, "In Full Bloom". It's a free e-zine which can be downloaded [HERE](https://t.co/XH2BotrZeS)!

Let’s set the scene: nine teenagers, three gardens, two pallets of flowers, and one box of tools.  A cloudless spring day, with a cool breeze and warm sun, outside of a retirement home in suburban Tokyo, and --

“Kuroo-saaan, why do we have to do this?”

And Kuroo was already starting to regret this, just a little.  He plastered on a smile, narrowed his eyes, and said, sugar-sweet, “It’s important to give back to our community, Lev.”

Lev yawned wide enough for his jaw to crack.  “But so _early?_ ” he complained.

“Practice usually starts two hours earlier than this, what are you talking about?”

“Yeah, but it’s the weekend.  I want to cuddle with my cat.”

Beside Kuroo, Kenma made a muted noise of agreement.  Kuroo clamped a hand down on his shoulder, expertly subverting Kenma’s attempts to wriggle free.  “We are going to plant flowers for these lovely old people and we are going to have fun.  Or else.”

“Or else what?” Inuoka asked, grinning.

“Or else an entire practice of flying falls.”

There was a beat of silence, and then the first years started talking all at once, grabbing a flat of flowers and elbowing over the tools.  Kuroo sighed, and shared a look with Yaku, who rolled his eyes and waded into the fray.  As he watched Yaku bark orders and twist ears, an idea occurred to Kuroo.  A wonderful idea.  He couldn’t suppress a slow smirk.

“I hate it when you get that face,” Kenma sighed.

“Don’t worry,” Kuroo grinned.  “It’s a good one.”  He leaned forward, just a bit, and let his bangs fall over one eye.  “Hey, idiots.  Wanna make this more interesting?”

 

***

 

Kuroo finished patting the soil down around a pansy plant, placed carefully equidistant from its neighbours.  He sat back on his heels to survey his work, and absently ran his hand through his hair.  A trickle of soil fell down the back of his shirt.

“Looking good, Kuroo-san!” Yamamoto enthused, reaching for a double high-five.  Kuroo slapped his hands hard.

“That’s teamwork,” he crowed.  “Our garden is gonna be the best.”  He smirked towards Yaku’s group, but he was too busy trying to wrangle the sloppy if enthusiastic first years to notice.  Oh well.  Kuroo would rub it in his face later.  

The challenge was accepted, the teams were split, and there was no way Yaku’s garden was going to be better than his.  Especially not with his group of first years.  Hah hah.

Yamamoto whooped and caught Fukunaga around the neck in a friendly headlock.  Fukunaga only sneezed in response, looking utterly miserable -- because, as they’d all discovered that day, apparently Fukunaga had a pollen allergy.  And had forgotten to take any meds for it that morning.  Yamamoto patted Fukunaga’s back sympathetically.  “Hang in there, buddy.”  

Fukunaga shot him a rueful look out of red-rimmed eyes and started digging another hole.  Stubborn determination.  Same thing that made him a solid volleyball player. Kuroo smirked; he liked that kid.  

“Well, now,” an unfamiliar voice said, and Kuroo looked up into the smiling face of one of the old ladies who lived in the retirement home.  “Aren’t you just a handsome group of young men?”

Kuroo immediately jumped to his feet, brushing the dirt off of his knees and bowing.  “Thank you, ma’am.  We’re here to give your gardens a nice floral facelift, though it might be harder than I thought to make them live up to how lovely the residents are.”  He winked.

The lady rolled her eyes and laughed.  “Quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

Kuroo grinned.  “Yes ma’am.”  

“Well, I always like a confident man.  I hope you boys are able to back it up.”  There was a hint of a challenge behind her words, and Kuroo took it up instantly.

Sweeping an arm in a broad gesture, he indicated the entirety of the team working behind him.  “We’re the Nekoma High School Volleyball club.  We’re no strangers to hard work.  When we’re done, these gardens are going to look fantastic.  Especially mine.”  At the older woman’s raised eyebrow, Kuroo grinned and rubbed at the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly.  Another trickle of dirt spilled down his shirt.  “We, ah, get competitive sometimes.  Helps with team spirit, you know.”

“Of course.”  Her tone was drier than the potting soil.

Kuroo turned to look over the gardens again.  Yaku had clearly enlisted Shibayama’s help in wrangling their beanpole first years, and the four of them were progressing with aggressive purpose.  But not as well as Kuroo’s team, of course; Fukunaga had a keen eye for colour, and he and Yamamoto had made good progress while Kuroo was talking, and --

“Please excuse me,” Kuroo said politely.  The woman waved him away, settling in to watch on one of the nearby benches.

“Whaddya think, Kuroo-san?” Yamamoto asked with a wide grin, brandishing a spade.

Kuroo gave him a thumbs up.  “Looks good.  Where’s --?”

Fukunaga wiped his nose on the back of his hand and nodded towards a shady corner against the building, a handful of meters away.

Kenma didn’t even look up from his phone when Kuroo approached and stood over him, hands on hips.  They held that tableau for a moment, Kenma tapping at his phone the only movement, until Kuroo finally said, “Well?  You going to join us any time soon?”

“No,” Kenma said instantly.  Kuroo pursed his lips, but Kenma didn’t change expression or posture, except to set his shoulders stubbornly.

“Kenma,” Kuroo said, a little exasperated.

“Kuro,” came Kenma’s deadpan response, followed by a more emphatic, “ _Kuro_ ,” when Kuroo reached down and plucked the phone out of his hands.

“Kenma,” he imitated.  He nudged Kenma’s knee with his toe.  “Participate.”

“I had a full combo.”

“Like you’ve never done that before.”

“It’s too hot.  I hate being hot.”

“You’ll survive.  C’mon.  I need you to beat Yaku.”

Kenma shifted, wrapping his arms around his knees and looking up at Kuroo with narrowed eyes.  “I’m not participating in your stupid rivalry.”

“Sure, sure,” Kuroo replied easily.  “But don’t you want to beat Lev?  And help end Fukunaga’s suffering?”  When Kenma looked entirely unmoved, Kuroo pulled out the big guns:  “I’ll buy you mochi on the way home.”

One side of Kenma’s lip pulled up, considering.  “Fine,” he sighed, acting put-out, but he let Kuroo pull him to his feet and lead him back to the gardens.  Bribery almost always worked.  Lucky for Kuroo that his best friend was so predictable.

Yamamoto grinned up at them as they approached, brighter than the springtime sun.  “Hey Kenma!”  Kenma favoured him with a small smile, and settled into a reluctant crouch.  Yamamoto pointed.  “Hand me that gardenia.  The white one,” he added, when Kenma looked lost.  As soon as Kenma picked it up, he waggled his eyebrows. “Ooh, Kenma, I didn’t know you were in love!”

Kenma froze, and Kuroo choked.  “ _What?_ ”

Yamamoto gestured at the flower.  “Gardenia,” he stressed, as if that was supposed to mean something.  “Oh c’mon.  Hanakotoba.  Gardenia means secret love.”  All three of the others blinked at him.

Kuroo recovered first and burst out laughing.  “Didn’t peg you as the kinda guy who was into that sort of thing,” he teased.

“Shut up!”  Yamamoto’s face turned as red as his tee-shirt.  “My sister reads a lot of shoujo manga!”  Fukunaga smirked and sniffed a quiet laugh.

“Tora,” Kenma said, and pointed at the flower in Kuroo’s hand.  Freesia.  Yamamoto cracked up.

“What?”  Kuroo looked down at the plant and back up.  “What?”

Kenma turned studiously back to the garden.  “Don’t worry about it, Kuro.”

Kuroo frowned at him, but Kenma didn’t explain, so Kuroo decided to change tack.  “Alright, team, let’s focus.  We gotta finish up.  So we can win.  And then we should help Kai, probably.”  As the most level-headed person on the team -- and as the person with the most experience in accepting and avoiding Kuroo and Yaku’s bickering -- Kai had been unanimously selected as the best judge for the gardening contest.  He was solitarily plugging away at the third garden with the flowers left over from the competitors’ selections.

Without looking up, Kenma said, “Kai doesn’t need help.”

“‘Course he does,” Yamamoto said, “he’s all by --” he glanced over at the third garden.  “He’s _done?_ ”  And sure enough, Kai was kneeling calmly beside a perfectly ordered garden, watching his teammates with a light smile.

“Damn, he’s good,” Kuroo muttered, impressed.

Kenma sighed and pushed a knee against Kuroo’s.  “Are we almost done?”  

Kuroo ruffled his hair, ignoring Kenma’s reflexive shoulder hunch.  “We’ll be done sooner if you get back to work, you lazy cat.”

(Kenma did, grudgingly.)

(Kai declared that neither garden was as nice as his.)  
  
(Kuroo and Yaku put aside their differences to throw dirt at him.)

**Author's Note:**

> Talk fandom to me on Twitter at [@paxlegomenon](https://twitter.com/@paxlegomenon).


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